


A Proper Reaction

by mrandmrhale2



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Lydia is pushy and awesome, M/M, Stiles is nervous, Stilinski Family Feels, some language?, wheeee, yay makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrandmrhale2/pseuds/mrandmrhale2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles’ coming out was not nearly as earth-shattering as he has anticipated. It’s not like he expected a fanfare or a damn pride parade, but he had imagined confusion. Maybe even a little denial. What he got was a big fat plate of submissive acceptance, and that’s not the way this sort of stuff went. It just wasn’t</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Proper Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd and my first try at a little smut, so go easy on me!

Stiles’ coming out was not nearly as earth-shattering as he has anticipated. It’s not like he expected a fanfare or a damn pride parade, but he had imagined confusion. Maybe even a little denial. What he got was a big fat plate of submissive acceptance, and that’s not the way this sort of stuff went. It just wasn’t. 

 

He told the Sheriff during breakfast. He had timed it perfectly, so that his dad would be right in the middle of a big gulp of coffee- just in case a spit take was appropriate- when he broke the dam.

 

“Dad, I think I’m in to dudes.”

 

Papa Stilinski barely took notice, other than a simple raised brow. He finished off his coffee calmly, and set down his cup with a sigh. He opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles cut in, “Or, like, maybe dudes and girls? I don’t really know. Hey, maybe I’m pan!” once he was finished, he braced himself for the shit storm.

 

“Why would that make you Peter Pan?”

 

Well. That wasn’t quite the response he was looking for. “Uh, no, that’s not, um, no. I-I guess it’s-”

 

The Sheriff waved a hand, his expression said he was all kinds of done with the question. Then he took a deep breath, and his face got real serious, like all the times he lectured Stiles about talking too much, or being out past curfew. 

 

Finally, he thought. A proper reaction.

 

His dad took a few moments before he said anything, taking the time to fold his hands and level his son with a disapproving stare. 

 

“We need to talk about your chemistry grade.”

 

Well okaaaaay…

 

_______________________

 

Scott wasn’t much better. He told him right in the middle of a Halo marathon, in-between muttered curses and frustrated shouts. And come on, Scott had to be able to smell how nervous Stiles was. But if he did, he made no comment on it. He slipped it in casually, hoping to throw Scott off enough to distract him from the game so that Stiles could blow his head off. He said it with an offhanded shrug, like it wasn’t the biggest fucking realization Stiles had made since he figured out that fucking werewolves existed. 

 

He glanced at Scott from the corner of his eye, looking for any sort of reaction. His friend’s eyes were trained on the TV, his thumbs thrashing violently over the controller. He waited for what he said to sink in, because it wasn’t every day that your Best Bro admitted to being attracted to guys. 

 

But Scott just nudged Stiles’ shoulder with his own, never taking his eyes off the screen as he said, “Cool, dude.”

 

Stiles furrowed his brow, and floundered for something else to say. What the hell was wrong with everybody? Stiles’ sexual preference was a big deal, damn it! “Not-not like I’m in to you, or anything, cause you’re just my bro and all, so I s-”

 

“That’d be gross,” Scott interjected, then leaped to with a victorious shout as he killed off Stiles’ avatar. “Fuck yeah! I am awesome!” Thrusting the controller in the air, he did a stupid little victory dance before he proceeded to tackle Stiles and pin him to the ground until he admitted that Scott was The Supreme Halo Lord. 

 

Neither brought up Stiles’ sexuality again that night.

 

______________________

 

When he made the choice to tell Allison and Lydia, he was positive that they would give him the feedback he’d been looking for. Shock, joy, fucking something other than casual dismissal. 

 

“So, what did you want to talk about, Stiles?” Allison asked, smiling at him reassuringly. He’d texted the girls to meet him at a local coffee shop because he wanted to talk about an existential crisis or some shit. Which, technically, it was. 

 

So they sat together his a corner booth, the girls sitting across from Stiles, waiting silently for him to confide in them. Allison’s signature dimples highlighted a warm and comforting smile, while Lydia’s face stayed her usual mask of boredom and annoyance. That was okay, though. It would just make her reaction all the better. 

 

“Well, there’s something, ah, something important I needed to tell you guys. I’ve been, ya know, thinking about this for a while now. And I just… I just decided it was time I take this major and life-changing step, and I thought I should fill you guys in on it.” He paused, and when Allison nodded encouragingly and Lydia arched a judgmental brow, he went on, “So, yeah. Anyways, what I called you guys here to tell you was… I’m bisexual.”

 

He held his breath, and watched their faces closely. They were frozen for a moment, before sharing side glances, and simultaneously sipped at their coffees. Still, he waited patiently, confident that as soon as the shock wore off, they would respond accordingly. He was sure of it.

 

Long seconds passed, and when the prolonged silence became awkward, Stiles flailed his arms in the air, “Say something!”

 

Lydia shrugged, “Well, it’s not like we didn’t already know.”

 

Allison had the decency to look guilty as she shrugged, “I could tell the moment I met you, Stiles.”

 

“What? That doesn’t even make sense! I just figured it out a week ago!”

 

Lydia sighed, “You may have only just figured it out, but honey, you’ve been bi for as long as I can remember.”

 

Allison reached across the table to squeeze his hand reassuringly. He could only gape at them. “H-How, how is this… I don’t,” he faded out with a disgruntled whine.

 

“It’s okay, Stiles. Maybe now that you realize it you’ll start dressing better,” Lydia said, studying her manicured nails intently. She looked up with a grin, “Allison and I could take you shopping!” Allison nodded enthusiastically. 

 

Stiles didn’t respond as he outwardly pouted, but secretly considered taking her up on the offer. He did have a lot of vintage t-shirts, and that did not a wardrobe make…

 

“So are you gonna ask him out, now?” Allison asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

 

“Who?”

 

“Oh, come on, Stiles, for real. Are you?”

 

“Should I be thinking of someone specific or was that just a general question?”

 

Lydia’s mouth fell open with a pop, and Allison bit her lip. Lydia leaned forward, her eyes narrowed, “Do you honestly not kn-” 

 

“It was just a generally question.” Allison cut her off, giving her a hard stare. Lydia sat back with a huff. 

 

Stiles watched the two with confusion, and made a mental note to ask Scott how the hell he understood his girlfriend. 

 

There was another awkward silence before Lydia asked brightly- too brightly, “So have you told Derek the big news yet?” There was a quiet thump and she muttered ‘ow’, glancing angrily at Allison.

 

“Umm, noooo,” he hedged, turning his coffee cup in his hands nervously, “I didn’t think he’d necessarily want to know. Plus, he probably wouldn’t care.”

 

Lydia looked about ready to fly out of her seat, and Allison grimaced. 

 

“You two are acting so damn odd. What the hell is wrong?”

 

“N-Nothing,” Allison stuttered, her eyes darting around the room, “I just think maybe-”

 

“You should definitely tell him,” Lydia interjected, crossing her arms stubbornly. 

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, you’re pack, right?”

 

He shrugged, “I suppose. We’ve never really talked about it.”

 

“Then this is the perfect opportunity to. Pack doesn’t keep secrets from each other.”

 

“Does that mean I have to tell Isaac and Erica? Boyd would be cool about it, I guess. But, oh God, what about Jackson? I don’t even want to think about the shit he’ll give me.”

 

“None of them are the alpha. You have to at least tell the alpha.”

 

Stiles sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. God, that would be so damn uncomfortable. Not only would he be telling the big bad Alpha something rather personal and still pretty vulnerable, but he would be confiding in the guy he’d had a crush on for years. 

 

So, yeah, Derek might have been the main reason Stiles had finally decided to admit he was attracted to dudes, but hell, who wouldn’t be attracted to the guy? He was two hundred pounds of pure sex. 

 

And, oh my God, what if he would be able to smell how attracted Stiles was to him? Was that a thing? Of course, it’s not like the attraction was a new thing… and it’s ridiculous to think that he wouldn’t have been able to smell it before Stiles’ realized it himself. Or, wait, had he been able to tell this whole time? No, that’s stupid, he would have-

 

“You look like you’re about ready to cry,” Allison said, furrowing her brow in concern. 

 

Lydia rolled her eyes, “Jesus, Stiles, put on your big boy pants and go tell Mr. Dark and Scary the major and life-changing thing you’ve just now figured out.” She ended the statement, which sounded more like an order, with a sickly sweet smile. Grabbing Allison’s hand as she slipping out of the booth, she said, “We’ll be in touch about the shopping trip. Ta-ta!” Then they were gone, Allison waving goodbye as she was dragged out of the coffee shop. 

 

Stiles sank down in his seat with a huff.

 

Fucking women.

 

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬

 

Stiles didn’t tell Derek that day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, a whole two weeks passed before he even began to consider telling the alpha. 

 

Scott could tell he was anxious, but, like a bro, the only support he offered was a smile and a clasp on the back. 

 

Lydia was unbearable. Every single day she would corner Stiles in the hallway, backing him up against the lockers with nothing but her incriminating stare as she interrogated him.

 

“Have you told him?”

 

“Uh, no?”

 

“Stiles! It’s been two weeks! When the hell are you going to do it?”

 

“Why do you care so much?”

 

She looked about ready to punch him, but luckily Allison happened along and dragged her away with a casual, “Tell us how it goes!” 

 

Unsurprisingly, Erica found out from Lydia, who then told her boyfriend, Isaac, who of course filled Boyd in. The suggestive glances he got from those three in the hallways were enough to make him want to crawl in a hole and die. 

 

Jackson either didn’t know, or simply didn’t give a shit, because he remained on the same level of douchebaggery as usual.

 

He felt drained, and he hadn’t even told Derek yet! His dad began to notice his internal distress, and decided to put an end to it one Saturday night.

 

He sat Stiles down at the table, and ordered him, in not so many words, to tell him why in the hell he was moping around like a beaten puppy.

 

As he tried not to let out a bitter laugh at the simile, he broke down and told his dad what was going on.

 

“I’m not sure how to tell this guy that I’m interested in dating men.”

 

The Sheriff sat back in his seat on an exhale, and crossed his arms. “Well, is he your friend?”

 

What a loaded question. One that shouldn’t be so difficult, but was anyway. Was Derek his friend? Technically, they weren’t at each other’s throats near as often as they used to. Although, there was still a fair share of Stiles getting shoved against a wall. But there was also a decent amount of mutual respect, and that could mean friendship, right?

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Then what’s the issue? If he’s your friend now, he’ll be your friend after.”

 

Stiles struggled to reply, to try and make his dad understand without outright saying that-

 

“Or is it that you’re interested in this guy?” after an uncomfortable cough, he added, “Romantically?”

 

“I don’t know… maybe. It’s not that I was planning on telling him I liked him, cause, oh my God, that would be so embarrassing. I’m more afraid of him just… knowing, I guess. That I like him, I mean. I don’t want to,” he paused, searching for some poetic deep way to express the hole he felt in his heart when he considered Derek rejecting him. “I just don’t want to lose him,” was all that he could say. It was all that really mattered, after all.

 

The Sheriff massaged his temples for a moment, “Hell, Stiles, I don’t know. Your mom would have been so much better at handling this sort of stuff.”

 

He knew his dad was working up to something bigger, he never mentioned Stiles’ mom on whim, and so he stayed quiet. 

 

“She was so level-headed. Always seemed to have all he answers,” he chuckled, his eyes focused on the table, “and I know I’m no substitute for her, but I can at least tell you what I think she would have told you.” He looked up, and gave his son a small smile, “Tell him, son. Tell him everything. How you feel about him, how scared you are to lose him… just tell him. You’ll always wonder about what could have been.”

 

Stiles laughed through the lump in his throat, and cast his eyes to the floor, “Wow, dad, been reading some Hallmark cards recently?”

 

He chuckled, but they both knew how much he appreciated it. 

 

To avoid an embarrassing scene where he would end up in tears, he rose to his feet, clasped his dad on his shoulder, and grabbed the keys to his jeep, “I’ll see you later, dad.”

 

The Sheriff’s expression changed from tender to stern in a split second, “I better. Curfew’s one.”

 

____________________________

 

The drive to Derek’s loft was perhaps the most nerve-racking thing Stiles had ever had to go through. Which was, of course, a gross over exaggeration considering most of Stiles’ friends were werewolves who like to get in to stupid shit, but he was willing to ignore that for the time being. He nearly turned around four or five times, but stubborn curiosity kept him driving.

 

What would Derek say? How would he react? Hell, Stiles was no catch with his 147 pounds of pure sarcasm. And Derek was… well, Derek. 

 

He pulled into the shady parking lot for Derek’s apartment building, and put the jeep in park.

 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, banging on his steering wheel. He didn’t have the nerve for this. 

 

Just as he was about to back out and get the hell away from this place, there was a knock on his window.

 

Now, when Stiles startles, it’s a tornado of flailing limbs. He cracked his elbow once or twice, and banged his head on the roof of the car. 

 

“Jesus fu- what the hell, Derek?” 

 

The werewolf just smirked at him from the other side of the window. “Were you planning on coming up, or were you just going to sit creepily in your car and watch me through my window?”

 

He was teasing, and Stiles knew it, but that didn’t stop the blush from creeping up his neck. Calm the fuck down, he reminded himself. His heart seemed to forget that it was in the presence of someone who could hear when he got flustered. 

 

He got out of the jeep a little clumsily, and fell into step with Derek as the two made their way up to the loft. 

 

“Why were you outside?”

 

Derek held up a plastic bag from the gas station down the street in reply. 

 

The elevator ride up was silent, but not uncomfortable. Stiles rarely felt uncomfortable around the alpha. In fact, he probably felt too comfortable if the way he desperately wanted to nuzzle the side of Derek’s neck and feel his stubble on his cheek was any indicator. 

 

Derek’s loft was nice, if not terribly empty, but it had some homey touches that The Old Hale House had desperately lacked. He threw his bag onto the counter, and turned to Stiles.

 

“Was there something you wanted, Stilinski?”

 

Now that he was here, the words rushed to the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out. But when Stiles opened his mouth, what came out was not at all the romantic prose he had prepared. 

 

“You’re really pushy and obnoxious. And mean, you’re mean too.”

 

Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, but stayed quiet. 

 

Well, this isn’t exactly the discussion I wanted to have today, he thought with a hint of distress. He’d already started though, might as well go on, “You always underestimate me. Hell, how many times have I saved your ass? And yet I’m still puny, little, human Stiles who can’t take care of himself. God, Derek, give me some credit, okay? I can hold my own.”

 

“Not against everything, Stiles,” his eyes were dark, and the allegations in the words made Stiles bristle. 

 

“You don’t get to make those kinds of decisions for me!”

 

“Yes, I do. I’m the alpha.”

 

Fuck, this isn’t how this was supposed to be going. But Stiles’ blood was boiling and he was in no mood to reel himself back in, “I’m not one of your betas, Derek! I don’t have to listen to a word you say, if I don’t feel like it.”

 

“Then you’re stupid,” he growled, his eyes flashing red.

 

“And you’re an arrogant asshole.”

 

“You’re breakable! I’m not, and I don’t want to be responsible if anything happens to you.”

 

“Responsible? Well, fuck, Derek, who ever said you were responsible for me? If you’re tired of having to babysit me all the time, why didn’t you just-”

 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he took a step forward, and Stiles didn’t have to be a werewolf to tell that his heart rate was up. The alpha was breathing heavy, and his eyes were slightly wild. 

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just trying to make you understand that I can take care of myself.”

 

“Why? Why, now, was this suddenly so important for you to get across?”

 

They were standing close now, eyes locked in an intense battle of will. Derek’s eyes were angry, for sure, frustrated, but there was also a different kind of heat. The kind that sent a shiver up Stile’s spine. Suddenly, he became shy, ducking his head and struggling for words. 

 

“I-I have to s-say some, something, and-”

 

Derek brought his hand to Stiles’ chin, gently bringing his head up to look straight into his eyes. He didn’t say anything at first, simply searching the teen’s face as if he were committing every mark, every little mole and freckle to memory.

 

The fragility of the situation made Stiles’ breath catch, and he just knew Derek had heard his clichéd heart skip a beat. 

 

“What do you want to tell me?” he whispered, his hand unfolding to cup Stiles jaw. 

 

“I think,” he took a deep, shaky breath, “that I may possibly be a little bit in love with you, maybe?”

 

Derek chuckled, “That wasn’t exactly a very heartfelt confession.”

 

“Fuck you, asshole,” he said, with no real heat, “I just bared my soul.”

 

“Sorry,” he smirked, his eyes falling to Stiles’ lips before returning to his eyes.

 

“That’s o-okay,” he stuttered, desperately trying to regain his composure before he melted into a puddle at Derek’s feet. “I just discovered it recently actually, th-that I was into, um, into guys.”

 

That got another chuckle out of him. “You just figured it out?” he question, moving close and brushing his nose against Stiles’ jawline. 

 

Holy God, “Dooon’t stop doing that, oh my g- and why does everyone keep saying that?”

 

Suddenly he was nipping at Stiles’ chin, burying his face into his neck and taking a deep breath. “Because everyone else has been able to tell for a long time,” he mumbled against his skin.

 

“Even you?” Stiles both loved and hated how breathy and weak he sounded, but he was too preoccupied digging his fingers into Derek’s biceps to dwell on it. 

 

He pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, before resting his forehead against Stiles’. “Especially me” he whispered, wrapping his arm that wasn’t busy cradling Stiles’ face around his back and pulling him close.

 

“I-I-I don’t know what to say.”

 

“Then shut up,” and then they were kissing.

 

And it was like nothing Stiles’ could have ever imagine, because it was better than anything he had dreamed of. It was gentle and warm and soft, but then Derek would dig his fingertips into his hips and lick greedily into his mouth and suddenly it was wild and hot and perfect.

 

Stiles was drowning and Derek was his air. And oh my God, was he cheesy but who the fuck cares because somehow they were on the couch now and Derek was grinding his hips down and Stiles’ was arching beneath him. He tugged at the werewolf’s shirt and only a moment later it was gone, thrown across the room and forgotten. He ran his fingers down a perfectly sculpted stomach, practically preening from the growl that escaped when he brushed his fingers right above the waistband on Derek’s jeans. 

 

“Fucking tease,” he grumbled, ripping Stile’s shirt off in one fluid movement. 

 

He didn’t have time to be self-conscience, because Derek covered his body with his own, sucking and biting at his neck as he arched into him.

 

“Fuuuuuck,” Stiles’ hissed, biting his lip to keep from moaning.

 

Then, all at once, the spell was broken as Stiles’ phone went off. Derek pulled back with a gasp, his lips red and swollen, and his hair mused from Stiles’ tugging fingers. 

 

The act of pulling his cell phone from his back pocket caused him to push his pelvis upward, sparking delicious friction and making Derek growl, as he grabbed Stiles’ hips and held him still.

 

“Damn it, Stilinski,” he groaned and Stiles slipped his phone out.

 

“It’s my dad,” he checked the time, “aaand it’s half an hour past curfew.”

 

“You should go,” but he didn’t loosen his grip or make any move to get off of him. 

 

“Yeah, probably.”

 

They stared at each other for another moment before Derek sighed. He pushed himself up with a quiet moan, allowing Stiles to slip to his feet. 

 

“I’ll, um, see you… later,” he said, not quite sure how to handle the goodbye. Was it okay to kiss him? Should he just leave? How was he supposed to-

 

Derek pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ lips, more of a nuzzle than anything else, before lightly shoving him towards the door. “Go. I’ll see you sooner than you think.”

 

“That sounds slightly stalkerish, Mr. Edward Cullen.”

 

The alpha rolled his eyes, but an affectionate smile snuck its way onto his face. “Get your ass out of my loft.”

 

Stiles grinned too, because why not? This would go down on his list of best days ever. 

 

He made his way to the door, Derek not far behind him, before he turned suddenly, “Oh, one more thing.”

 

He arched a brow in response.

 

“You get to tell Lydia about us. Later, Sourwolf!”

 

Stiles left Derek with a horrified look on his face, and the teen chuckled the whole way home.


End file.
